by catt dahman
Moving slowly as the rain came, they began rigging a rope being cautious not to slip on slick rocks and fall.
“Guys, hey, ” Bev yelled back over her shoulder, “something is wrong.”
The others went to their bellies to look over; Holly stared back, her eyes wide with worry and fear. Rivulets of water ran down the ledge and across where Holly lay on a slightly angled shelf. The streams washed sand and pebbles over the next ledge, forming eroded lines. At the end, a few small rocks were unseated by the water running beneath them, so they tumbled off the ledge and down below.
Through the rain, Charlie saw several deeply eroded lines under the big rock that was covered with a net.
The edge, dirt and sand and soil, crumbled, and the rock fell; the net was attached to more line that was tangled around Holly’s boots. Holly spun about, her legs spinning towards the edge as her finger dug into the mud. Fingernails snapped and broke as she fought to gain a handhold.
Dana screamed for her to catch the rope as she tossed one end below and encircled her waist with the other end. Carla grabbed Dana and leaned back to hold her in place.
Charlie saw the end fall short and yanked it up to toss again, hoping she could get it closer to Holly. “Yes,” she yelled as Holly grabbed the end of the rope. Bev dove to help hold her other friends.
Charlie rolled over and couldn’t get to her feet fast enough as shapes came leaping towards them in the heavy rain. She couldn’t get her gun out but was close to the knife. Before she could plunge it into one of the shapes, a hand almost crushed her wrist as a familiar voice warned her, “Don’t try to kill me when I’m trying to help.”
Holly screamed as she lost hold. Dana, Carla and Bev fell into the mud. Dana was too close to the edge and slid over. She screamed as well. The shapes, men, dropped their packs.
The tall man tied off a rope, and he and one of the other men expertly climbed over the ledge and dropped the last few feet. Charlie crawled over to watch as they ran another rope and climbed over the second ledge. Holly and the rock had vanished.
Dana was on her feet, moving to the edge to watch below as the two men climbing down, disappeared.
Charlie was about to climb down when the third man laid a hand on her arm, and said, “Let them help your friends.”
“Is that Kelly?”
“Yep, he can get them.” The man stepped back.
In a few minutes, Dana climbed back up, sobbing, with Kelly and the other man following her. There wasn’t time for explanations or introductions until later. The men hurried them down the trail where they said there was lower ground, which was not in danger of flooding, and the bluffs would offer shelter. In an hour, they were out of the rain, but it was stopping anyway.
The hot coffee warmed them and calmed everyone.
The ledge had dropped straight down to the river; the rock had done the same as had Holly’s. The rock fell, broke the surface, and sank to the bottom of a deep pool amid river grass and silt, dragging the line with it. Holly yelped as she hit the cold water, happy to be free for a second and then terrified as she was pulled in deep.
She fought to get to the surface, but her foot was caught. Yanking and pulling, she tried her best to get free of the tangled line. The next option was that she would remove the boot. Holding her breath, she unfastened and unhooked, but she hadn’t gotten a deep breath and the pressure to breathe was already huge. Panic set in. Before she could free herself, she began thrashing and fighting the water.
The first cold water closed her throat, and she thrashed harder, trying to open her lungs and breathe, but it was impossible.
Although Kelly jumped in and went under to cut her free, it took a few seconds to get her away from the line and to the side. He tried CPR for a long time, working in the rain, trying to breathe life into Holly.
He stared at the ground when he climbed back up.
He apologized several times, but Charlie held her hand up and told him she had a story to tell him. Taking turns, they filled Kelly and his men in on the details of the trip, leaving nothing out; the men interrupted a few times to ask questions and clarify details, nodding when they understood. The story of all they had been through lasted the rest of the afternoon and into the time while they made dinner.
“How did you find me?”
“Sorry, you may be angry, but I had a very sophisticated tracking device in your stuff. We thought everything was fine until we looked at the charts and saw you were off the regular trails and were at one site two nights; then, you made little distance, and so on. It looked off.”
“And you and your guys came all the way out here into the middle of no where to see about us? What if you were wrong? What if we were okay?” Bev asked.
“Then Charlie would have yelled about the tracking device, and we’d have gotten in some hiking, and it would have been okay in the long run. I’m sorry we were right. I had a hinky feeling; it’s not often wrong.”
“It was those three guys we met on the trail.” Charlie left out the part about Carla and her killing Rick, and she told Kelly they had only left Rick.
“I can’t say if this is part of what you’ve been going though and they were hand chosen by Banner, or if you attract psychos,” Kelly told Charlie.
“I think it’s one and the same. We thought they had cleared out and were leaving us alone. After the last run-in, we figured they had enough.”
“They may have headed out and left a trap behind. We didn’t find any more ahead, and we didn’t see the three men.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“We did at the three way. We were dropped in north of here in a meadow and hiked backwards to you,” Nick said.
Asking them to describe the two men they saw, Charlie slapped her forehead with her palm and glanced at the other four women. There was nothing to be done now, but the men had all exchanged a few words, and the pair knew Kelly and his guys were headed southeast and would run into the female campers.
“What? We’re looking for three men, right?”
“Or two. Maybe something awful happened to Rick. Just saying. We don’t know how many. We saw three at first, and then there were two.”
“We’ll discuss that later. Right now, we have the five of you ladies to get out of here. We didn’t find any traps, so we may be fine on the trail, but we’ll be careful. Regardless, the three of us are carrying guns, so if those men try anything, they’re dead.”
They took turns sleeping and being on guard duty, watching for threats. Charlie told Kelly about Rick.
“You stabbed him?”
“I didn’t ask you to understand or to….”
Kelly held up a hand, “I’m not judging you, far from it. I’m only interested in that you were so angry and so scared that you attacked him.”
“When he gloated about what he did to ‘Thea, it made me sick with rage. I saw red, and there was a roaring in my head; I didn’t think about it.”
“You reacted to the disgust and anger. You knew it was him or you.”
“Yes,” Charlie frowned, “that’s it. If we had let him go, he would have done even worse; they already had cut off Leila’s leg. My God, what kind of animals does that?”
“It’s a well plotted strategy. Taryn and the landslide were to incapacitate. Anthea and Ray were to shock and torment. They got you both physically and mentally. Leila and Bill were both. They wanted to terrorize all of you, but you having the gun and going after Rick was unexpected and a fly in the ointment, so to speak. You really screwed with their plans.”
“Good, I wish I had done more.”
“They were ahead, and they were moving away from you and left that trap on the trail. It was to incapacitate, I think, but things went really bad. There were more random events that went wrong that killed Holly. So I think they were back to messing with you physically.”
“Is it over?”
Kelly saw the hopeful look. He shook his head and responded, “I’m sorry. But I don’t think so. Th
is rain is bad. You see how much we’re getting? It runs downhill or to the south. That means it’s flooding out sections of trails we could have taken to get out.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we are going to have to hike north. We’ll be behind the men, and they can set traps as they like. He pointed north and said, “Up there is a road, and they are going there. So are we. There’s a ranger station, too. We just have to outwit them.”
“So far, we’ve failed on that,” Charlie said.
“Yes and no. Losing your friends is a failure, but you got Rick. That is a win. In six days, either you don’t do anything, or you kill Mark Banner, and I think it’s going to be when he’s on one of these trails.”
Charlie took that in. Six more days of camping out was depressing. She thought of something and said, “But if this is all real, you have six days to live….”
“Yep. But maybe we can change things. Banner thinks we can. So let’s make sure I survive.” He said as he smiled at her.
“I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this, and I’m sorry my friends are, and I’m sorry I am. It’s all so wrong.”
“Bad men doing bad shit, ain’t the first time and won’t be the last.”
Charlie said, “I hate what the bad guys made me and Carla do; we aren’t like that.”
“You think only money and power make people crazy? Hell, fear, and desperation, grief, self-preservation are mighty powerful motivators.”
“Are you just motivated by saving your own ass?”
Kelly laughed and said, “Nah, I did save you, if you recall.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
Charlie didn’t get it, but she nodded. For some reason, talking to Kelly was easy, like he was an old friend. She wanted to cry more for Holly and the rest, but she also felt safer now, and it felt good. That was the first good night’s sleep Charlie had had in a long time; she felt secure with Kelly and his men watching over them.
In the morning, Kelly supervised the packing and reduced the weight the women were carrying, making them all sigh with relief. It was as if they had lost weight.
Kelly set a fast pace, and although they stopped for water and protein breaks, they made great time. Kelly pushed them northeast off the trail, saying that according to his intel, there should be cabins set in the woods. “No telephone, no electricity, but we should get some rest. If we have a gas water heater, then we can bathe and cook.”
“Now we are breaking into homes?”
“Let’s hope we’re alone, and I am sure we can compensate them.”
Kelly moved carefully, avoiding all the potholes and rocks that dotted the surface of the packed- dirt road. “That way is out, but it’s miles and miles and right into a low area that will be underwater. We’re on higher ground now, but it looks like more rain is coming.”
“More rain?”
“Supposed to flood in a big way. Weather reports changed after you left.”
“There are other cabins?” Charlie asked.
“It seems so. We’ll quietly take this one, and if anyone is there, which I doubt, he won’t see us.”
The road turned into a driveway of sorts and ended at a cabin, a well-built place, large and clean. It set overlooking a beautiful, small lake and was surrounded by large, old trees. Charlie and Dana took a few seconds to appreciate the view, looking out to the dock that led out into the water.
Todd, the big man with Kelly who looked like a huge bear and moved like a ballet dancer, opened the door and slid inside; locks were no issue for him. He walked around, listened, moved into the rooms, and in a few minutes, he came back. “It’s clear.”
It needed to be aired out, but it was clean and only needed a thorough dusting and sweeping. It was simple. There was a brown fabric sofa and comfortable looking chairs and rustic side tables, a small table with six chairs for eating, and a nice, modern kitchen with stainless steel appliances that seemed a bit fancy for a rustic cabin in the woods. The walls and floors were made of wood, and the only color was plain maroon: curtains on the windows, throw pillows, a rug in the same shade of maroon, and some large paintings.
Charlie looked flummoxed.
“You don’t like the art?”
“It doesn’t fit. It’s abstract and very Pollack-like. Why would they have abstract splatters everywhere?” It looked as if someone had taken the canvasses and thrown brown, green, dark gold, and maroon paint at them randomly. They matched.
“And? Why do you care?”
“I paint. Watercolor. This is acrylic I think, but the reddish color doesn’t look right. I swear it looks like blood,” Charlie said.
“It does,” Kelly agreed. Carefully checking the bedrooms and bathroom upstairs, he said it all looked clear but they’d keep the curtains closed, except for one. He stood at the huge windows and sliding glass door of the living area. From there, he could see the lake, a wonderful view.
“Chairs and a grill on the deck. That’s nice,” Dana said, “if I had this place, I would be up here a lot.”
Sitting at the table, Charlie asked Kelly to tell the rest of the story about the night Sam died. “Mark was badgering him even there as he was dying. Sam just relayed what he had seen. Sam made a couple of jaunts that night, but I was having problems with audio, so I heard the last one.”
Bev nodded asked, “And where did he go? Not that I believe this, and I’m not saying I think you’re lying either. I am just having trouble with all this.”
“They knew Mark’s wife had hired someone to investigate. They wanted to be sure that whoever it was…which was me…was stopped from handing over the information to the FBI. Sam went to where I was dying or dead to see me. Supposedly, he saw me, and while he was there, he saw Charlie shoot Mark Banner, and then, I don’t know who did it, but someone shot Sam.”
“How could Sam take something that happened in the future back with him to the present?” Carla asked. It was the same question Charlie and everyone always asked.
“I’m not a theoretical physicist. It happened. Mark wants to change what will happen in the future.”
“Can he?”
“I guess. I mean if you don’t do anything, then it is changed. You could go crazy trying to figure this out.”
“Then I’m going crazy after I have a bath,” Carla said.
Part 2
Chapter 7
Chris Donner and Cody Hemmings grinned a lot. They enjoyed their work and took a great deal of pride in it. Their orders for this job were very loose; the woman, Charlie, was to die, but she and her friends could be hunted and terrorized as much as the men wanted before she died. It was a dream job.
When they came to the Parker’s cabin and found the family there, the two men smiled and joked around and eventually offered a good sum of cash if they could rent the room with the twin beds. Cody Hemmings said this was the best fishing spot he’d ever found, and besides, more rain was on the way.
They made small talk, and Bart said Janice had been a teacher. The men asked where she had worked before quitting to stay home with her children. To seal the deal, Cody said he worked at the same school as Janice Parker had worked, long ago, in a town not too far away.
Bart Parker, not overly bright, saw the cash and agreed right away to take in the visitors. “Small world. Glad you two are teachers.”
“It’s a thankless job, but it’s rewarding.”
Janice was aware that the men had asked a lot of questions about them, and Bart seemed fine, thinking the men were okay, but something about the men bothered her although she couldn’t say what it was. She had a thought.
“And is Sandra Calhoun still there teaching?” she asked.
“Yes, she is,” Cody said, “she’s something else.”
“Do you get along with her? Some people don’t,” Janice said cautiously. She was brighter than her husband, Bart.
Cody nodded, “I do. I don’t know why people give her a hard time.”
“It’s that t
emper of hers.” Janice laughed.
“Well, true. But she only loses it when she’s had too much.”
Janice smiled. Sandra Calhoun was the most easy-going, cheerful, sweet woman she had ever known, and the woman simply had no temper. “That red hair.”
Cody laughed harder and said, “Yep. Must be.”
Sandra was a platinum blonde. Janice kept her smile, and asked, “And how long have you been there?”
“Five years. But enough shop talk. We’re hoping to catch some fish and enjoy the place before the rain hits.”
Janice looked at Bart and said, “I want to talk to you.”
“Oh?” All three men looked at her.
“Deanna. She is smarting off to me.” Janice fibbed. Their daughter never did that, but she wanted to get Bart alone.
“I’ll deal with it later.”
“I really need to talk to you now,” she insisted.
“Janice, calm down. You’re getting upset and nervous. Paint for a while, and take a pill. I’ll handle things. I always do.” Bart shrugged; he was the typical long-suffering husband of a hysterical wife.
“I just want to talk to you. Is that so difficult?” Her voice was rising. This is what she always did; she screamed, “Bart, please.”
He looked at the men apologetically, these strangers that he felt embarrassed in front of because she was getting hysterical and loud. “You’re over reacting, and we can talk later. Now you’ll take your pill, and I’ll go catch some fish.”
She stopped talking. If she couldn’t get him to listen and raised her voice, she was hysterical, and if she repeated herself, she was bitchy, so she just let him ignore her as always. Bart would prefer that she not say another word, Janice thought. Sometimes she thought about taking the kids and running away, but he wouldn’t notice or care, and where would she go and what would she do?
So she stayed and let Bart treat her like some wart that was always aggravating him and that he wanted to ignore or be rid of.